Proof reaches a grateful Diary that the City’s small but plucky band of legal PRs have not lost their rock’n'roll edge. One renowned press-room diva – who we’ll call Tamara – recently regaled your correspondent with several bottles of wine, a lot of shouting and an extended discourse on what a little darling her firm’s head of corporate is.
The debauchery didn’t end there, with Tamara picking up a ‘hot Greek’ on her way home after failing to persuade an increasingly dishevelled Diary to tuck in to yet another bottle of Vino Destructo. Tamara – after boasting of having eaten only “three chips all night” – broke a decade-long vow of abstinence and picked up a junky kebab on the way home.
